


Wagers and Double-Sided Coins

by LeoOtherLands



Series: Bittersweet Symphony [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Because Hisoka is himself..., Camaraderie, Canon Divergence, Caring, Enemies to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Heist, Light Smut, M/M, Multi, Rare Pairings, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoOtherLands/pseuds/LeoOtherLands
Summary: Feitan is more than happy to spend his time taking care of Chrollo, however, the Troupe's new number four has other plans. While the Phantom Troupe moves to capture a fantastic score, Hisoka makes arrangement for a score of his own...





	Wagers and Double-Sided Coins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercyandmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/gifts).

> This piece is for the lovely mercyandmagic, who's work [Get Lost, Fools.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606280/chapters/38921642) inspired how I wrote Chrollo in this story of mine. Yet, I give this away with some regret. I have a few apologies to make for this piece! First, I must say I am sorry it took me months to finish writing this. I never intended it to, but I'm sure you forgot I even asked you if you would like this silly thing. Unfortunately, my muse is a fickle bastard and I can't contain him. The next apology is for the fact this little doodle became what it is. It was never meant it to grow so long. It rather got away from me. Which leads me to my final apology. This is far from my best work, and I really am sorry for that. I have a standard for things I gift to others, and this falls under the standard. I'm sorry. I hope you can still enjoy this somehow.
> 
> I was a heavy heart to carry  
My beloved was weighed down  
My arms around his neck  
My fingers laced to crown
> 
> And is it worth the wait  
All this killing time?  
Are you strong enough to stand  
Protecting both your heart and mine?
> 
> Who is the betrayer?  
Who's the killer in the crowd?  
The one who creeps in corridors  
And doesn't make a sound
> 
> This will be my last confession  
"I love you" never felt like any blessing  
Oh  
Whispering like it's a secret  
Only to condemn the one who hears it  
With a heavy heart
> 
> I'm so heavy, heavy in your arms
> 
> Heavy, I'm so heavy in your arms
> 
> [Heavy In Your Arms - Flourence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK6U4FiAoAs)

Chrollo sighed under me, chest rising and falling, arm coming up to drape over me, while his hand rubbed slow circles on my back.

“Thank you, Fei.”

“No thank!” I said, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust of my still half-hard member to that place where I was still inside him, making him arch and moan. “You need, I do!”

Chrollo exhaled slowly, deflating back into the mattress. “Yes, Feitan. You always have.”

My _Danchou’s_ words were tired, drowsy, but he kept rubbing my back, as I liked, while I let my eyes slip to half-mast and cuddled my face to his chest, listening to his heart fluttering under my ear. We knew each other well. It wasn’t the first time I’d been called to my _Danchou’s_ room for the sole purpose of fucking him senseless into delirium.

Chrollo Lucilfer wasn’t a man given to often submitting to the need for physical pleasure, but, when he did, it was me who relieved him. This wasn’t to say my _Danchou_ couldn’t have anyone he wanted. There were plenty in the _Gen’ei Ryodan_ who would kill for the chance to get into his bed, but Chrollo wouldn’t touch them. He was the head of the _Supaidā_, they were _his_ Spiders, and he wouldn’t have it said he took advantage of them. He cared for them too much.

I was different. As one of the eight founding members of the _Ryodan_ who had grown up with Chrollo in Meteor City, he knew I was strong enough to take it. Strong enough to take all of his stress and frustration and not be burdened by it.

Chrollo sighed again, the filling and emptying of his lungs lifting me and settling me back. I opened my eyes, and my _Danchou_ wrapped his arms around me, pressing me close to his pale skin. We rested like that a moment, then Chrollo let me go.

“Can you take yourself out of me, Feitan?”

Pushing myself up, I squirmed down his longer body, to do as asked, and remove myself from off of him as well. Free of my meager weight, the young, slender man, who was my _Danchou_, sat up, drawing his knees to his chest. I expected him to get out of the disheveled bed and dress, but he half startled me by shifting to his knees and taking my face in his hands to kiss me.

I let him without protest, leaning into his affectionate lips and inviting tongue with my own. We had been together long and often enough Chrollo knew what I liked, and never forgot to deliver it during our dalliances. Only when I was satisfied did he draw back, with a hand through my hair, and slip off the bed to pull on his black-leather pants.

“_Danchou_?”

He turned his gray eyes on me, eyes like rain clouds, I’d once heard them called. “Yes, Fei?”

“What wrong?” I asked, kneeling and gripping the tumbled sheets in my small hands. “It job? Heist plan not go good?”

“No, Fei,” he said, picking up the pool of his long coat from where he’d dropped it in our tussle to the bed. He eased it over his shoulders in what spoke of them still aching from the non-too-gentle treatment he liked me to use. “The planning is going fine.”

He adjusted the fur collar of the coat and stepped forward, leaning down to brace his hands on the bed and press his forehead to mine, so our eyes were close. When he moved back, still bent over to meet my gaze, his dark hair slipped over his forehead, over the cross tattooed there, and framed his eyes, so like mine. Only gentler.

I hated the sight of the cross, remembering when and why he’d first drawn it there.

“What do you think of our new member, Fei?”

“He pig!” I said instantly, recalled to the present and the thought of our new number four. The clown had shown up out of nowhere saying he wanted to join and would fight anyone who was willing to risk their life and number to stop him. This alone wasn’t enough to bother me. Omokage was no loss. What annoyed me was everything else about him. His arrogance and swaggering attitude, mixed with his aptitude for whimsical lies and evil, cunning grins. The man was dangerous. “I no like!”

Chrollo closed his eyes, sighing once more, and straightened to pace over to a low table strewn with books and paper, which he ran his fingers over lightly. “I’m not sure if I trust him, Feitan.”

“_I_ no trust!” I spat, dropping off the edge of the bed to search for my bandana and other scattered attire. “He no to be trusted!”

The man’s whole aura and devious _Nen_ spoke of trouble. From the moment he’d killed the old number four with a grin, I’d known no good would come of anything having to do with him. “Fucking clown bastard,” I hissed.

“Humm…” Chrollo made the thoughtful sound, leaning back on the table with his hands braced on either side of his narrow hips. With his soft, gray, rain eyes and pale complexion and feminine features he hardly looked a man sometimes. More a boy, far too young for the life we’d both lived. “For better or worse he’s one of us now, Fei. One of my Spiders.”

I grumbled and cursed in my native language, hopping on one foot in attempt to get my legs back into my pants. Thoughts of the magician set me off balance and frayed my nerves in more ways than one.

“Feitan…”

“I not kill,” I reassured my _Danchou_, tugging my coat on over my other clothes. Chrollo’s hands came on my shoulders when I did and I found myself looking up at him, gloomily.

“I trust you, Feitan.”

“Know do,” I murmured. Then strained upward when my _Danchou_ pulled down my bandana and placed a kiss on my lips. I closed my eyes, enjoying it, and frowned when he moved away.

Chrollo drifted to the low table and sat in a simple chair beside it. He leaned his elbow on the cluttered surface and rested his forehead on his fingers. “There is to be no fighting among my Spiders, Fei.”

“Yes, _Danchou_.”

“We’re just going to have to hope our misgivings are unfounded, Feitan.”

“Humm…” I made the resigned sound, casting stormy, gray eyes over him. “You need,”  
I demanded, pointing at him, “you call!”

Face wistful, Chrollo assented, “Yes, dear Fei.”

As satisfied as I was going to be, I settled my bandana back over my face and exited my _Danchou’s_ room, shutting his door behind me, and ambling down the dim, stone hall of the Troupe’s main hideout with my hands tucked in my pockets. Doors opened to either side, but I wandered to where the hall opened out into the main room. The rest of the Spiders sprawled there. Draped over chairs, laid out on couches, hunched in corners. Reading, napping, plucking away at handheld games. A picture of dissatisfied inaction. Until Chrollo walked out of his room to tell us our moves for the heist, we would lounge and eat and tread on each other’s nerves. A stifling interlude. Even if it was an accustomed one.

Lost in thought, gray eyes clouded and distant, I shuffled out to sharpen my blades and endure the interminable. Two days later, the tableau had not changed, though the bodies had shuffled position on the couches and floor.

I sat, cross-legged, on the ground across from Phinks. As we often did, we were passing time gambling our take from the heist before we had even earned it. Phinks was marginally annoyed at the fact I was robbing him blind, but also half distracted with a more interesting score.

“I have my Jenny on Shalnark,” the large, blond man said with a scowl, laying down a card.

“You lose,” I returned, not meaning the game of cards spread between us. With disinterest, I dropped a card down.

“What do you mean?” Phinks grunted, glowering at the cards remaining in his hand. His fingers lingered over one, then chose another to play.

“Shalnark no fuck clown,” I assured. “Shalnark no like.” This I had no doubt about. The magician was not Shalnark’s type, and the young blond would not fuck for anything less than his ideal. Leading Phinks to be the loser of the Troupe’s customary wager upon receiving a new member. The wager of who that new member would fuck first. Considering the high stakes involved, several heists worth of Jenny, it was a tough wager, as no one was inclined to fuck the new member and lose.

Phinks grumbled. Then cursed when I lay my card. “Shit, Fei!” he spat out, tossing down the last of his cards. “Who do you have your Jenny on then, Fei?”

“You.” My voice was droll, dry. I was more interested in tallying how much Jenny my friend now owed me.

“Me!” Phinks choked out. “What makes you think I’d fuck him?!”

I glanced at where the clown reclined against a wall by himself. His head thrown back and his eyes half-lidded. His lips were parted in a feral smirk, as if he knew how much attention revolved around him, and his long hands hung between his upraised knees.

“You like fuck,” I said simply when I turned back.

Phinks went red to his ears and hairline. “What’s that got to do with it?! I like Jenny too!”

Satisfied with my calculations, I spared a glance for my friend. “You want fuck clown. Think he be fun.”

It was true. Though Phinks fumed at the words he didn’t deny them because he understood I knew him too well. The big blond enjoyed fucking pretty women and dangerous men. It was why we had ended up in bed together more than once.

The thought made me cast a lingering glance toward the hall leading to Chrollo’s room. The first time with Phinks had been unintentional, a product of a good heist and too much to drink on both our parts. After I’d sobered up, I’d dragged myself to my _Danchou_, thinking he’d be hurt or upset, only to find him neither.

“You’re both my Spiders, Fei,” he’d said, kissing me. “I want you to be happy. Do what makes you happy, dear Fei.”

Though Chrollo wanted no one else in his bed, he didn’t hold me to the same sense of loyalty. In a way I found odd, he seemed pleased when he discovered I’d fucked Phinks a few other times, following the first, without alcohol.

I let my eyes and mind wander back to the blond in question. He’d said something to me I hadn’t heard. Was, in fact, wiggling his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

“Feitan… Feitan.”

“What want?”

“You to bet your Jenny on someone else! Hell, Fei! If I want to fuck someone, I can just fuck you!”

“Feitan.”

My name, spoken light and soft, still carried over the large room, turning every head. Chrollo stood framed in the door to the hall, his fur collar accenting his pale face and steady gaze. The tension in the room grew to a palpable sensation along the skin, but I knew what our _Danchou’s_ presence meant.

Setting aside the cards, I braced my hands on my knees and straightened up, brushing off my coat when I reached my feet. My slate gaze pinned Phinks and his scowl to the ground. “No ‘night,” I said, tucking my hands in my pockets and pacing over to my _Danchou_.

I looked up at him and Chrollo offered me a thin smile before putting his hand on my shoulder. “Would you mind, Fei?”

“No mind,” I retorted.

“Of course, Fei.”

Chrollo turned and I started walking with him, bothered only by the eyes I felt drilling into my back. I flicked my eyes over my shoulder. The scene of me walking away with our _Danchou_ was so common all my fellow Spiders had already gone back to their previous bored occupations. All but one. The clown’s gold eyes glittered at me, his tongue peeking out of his mouth to lick his lips, as if he were tasting something delightful. Seeing my quick appraisal, his eyes slid half closed, and his lips quirked in a grin.

Half hissing to myself, I faced forward, so I wouldn’t have to look at him. The walk to Chrollo’s room was blessedly short and, when the door was shut, I didn’t have to think of the clown either. I took in Chrollo to take my cue from him.

The other man was quiet and slowly removing his long coat, as through he had nothing really to be concerned about. _That_ sent a coursing glow through me. The heist plans were done than, and my _Danchou_ was satisfied. Elation at the fact there wouldn’t be anymore fucking waiting mixed with a subtle pleasure Chrollo would not be wanting the rough treatment he requested when taxed.

Unhurriedly, I began removing my long coat, taking the time to drape it over a chair before working at my other attire. A short way off, Chrollo was slipping out of his pants.

“How are my Spiders, Fei?”

“Testy,” I hissed, freeing myself from my own lower garments. “Need work soon or start arguing.”

“Tomorrow,” my _Danchou_ assured, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands dangling between his knees and rain-gray eyes watching me. “What were you and Phinks talking about, Fei? Our Phinksy seemed upset.”

“Wager,” I said, amusement painting my voice, and lips pulling up into a vicious, sharp-toothed smile, even as I pulled my bandana away. “Phinks no like I say he fuck clown first.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Chrollo’s voice was thoughtful and distant.

“Phinks would like fuck clown,” I added, turning narrowed, gray eyes on him. Not liking the note I heard in his words.

“Very probably, Fei.”

I stalked forward a step. Predatory. Upset by the disagreeing, reserved attitude I felt roiling off him.

“You no think Phinks fuck clown?”

“I don’t think our new member is interested in Phinks.”

“Then who you Jenny on, _Danchou_?”

My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides, body vibrating with displeasure and concern at this unexpected turn of Chrollo’s mood. But his next words had me hissing in sudden surprise.

“You, Fei.”

“Tsk! Why you wager on me?! You lose! I no fuck clown!”

“Because you hate him, Fei. And Hisoka Morou strikes me as a man who likes a challenge.”

“He try! He see what happens!” My anger and uncertainty were tangible things felt in coils of heat radiating from me like shimmering waves. Anyone else would be backing away, terrified, but not Chrollo. He sat in the midst of it, unfazed. Face downcast, heavy earrings weighting his ears. Hair hanging over his features.

“Fei.” One word and all my wrath and tangle of emotion evaporated like a burst of summer rain. Chrollo sat, forearms braced on legs, hands still dangling, face full of all that sadness and need I both hated and didn’t understand.

The subtle sorrow in his every line compelled me. I walked forward and nudged my way between his thighs. Placing my small hands on his chest, I kissed him a long moment before pulling back, so our duet of gray eyes could meet.

“On bed.”

Chrollo complied. I spread his legs and soon had him thrashing under me, his head turning restlessly on the bedding, his hair clinging, damp, to his face, as he panted. “F-fei,” he gasped, the sound and the flush of his face making me feel good.

“Have you, _Danchou_,” I murmured, timing my motions to elicit further gasps and feeble struggles from the man. Making everything sweet for him, the way I liked, and he so seldom let me. His back arched when he reached his climax and I hissed, as he clenched around me, bringing me to my fulfillment.

I slumped into the larger man, my face coming to rest in the hollow of his shoulder. My breath continuing to hiss pasted my teeth, as I came down off my high.

“Good, _Danchou_?” I questioned, breathlessly when I had the air. “It good? _You_ good?”

“Yes, Fei,” he managed, bringing a hand up to press between my shoulder blades. “You always make me feel good.” My _Danchou_ was silent a while, but I could feel his unspoken words in the set of his body beneath mine. “Stay the night with me, Fei?”

“Yes, _Danchou_.”

The request was an occasional one, and I relished it. Extracting myself from my companion, I settled against his side. Chrollo was not one for intense intimacy. Though he was careful to give me what I liked, his own bursts of need came in random pluses and he preferred the simple touch of flesh to being held overlong. I didn’t mind it. I just enjoyed being near him.

Yet, when my _Danchou’s_ breathing had turned even and measured, and he had curled into a fetal ball, I knew meant deep sleep, I could not join him. His soft insistence the clown was interested in me and his wagering I would be the first to fuck the bastard wouldn’t let me sleep.

Spitting curses into the night, I crept out of Chrollo’s bed, using all my skill, so he wouldn’t notice. Luckily, I was very skilled. There was no stir from my _Danchou_, not even when I dressed and padded out. Vacating the room and exiting the hideout by a side door.

The night air hit my face like a slap, and I hissed it in. Chilled compared to the air underground. Fresh. Not filled full of city stench or garbage reek.

Muttering unintelligibly in my native language, I jammed my hands in my pockets and wandered aimlessly around the trees guarding the entrance. After a short time, I leaned myself up against a thick trunk and lit a cigarette. I rarely smoked, but felt the need of it, as I took in the moon.

_Fucking clown bastard_, I let out in my own tongue, mixed with smoke.

I lingered until the flame came close to stinging my fingers, then, shoving away from the tree, I snuffed out my cigarette in preparation to return to the hideout and Chrollo.

But, as if my words and thoughts had summoned him, the magician sauntered into my view. I paused, hissing out a breath. The man was all subtle movements and languid motion of muscle under the moonlight. A predator and a conniving one at that.

The slight intake of my breath alerted the man to my presence, or, at least my scrutiny, as if he hadn’t already sensed it, and he sashayed across my path. “Well hello, Feitan,” the insufferable bastard cooed, bending down to grace me with a curling smile.

“Clown,” I said, teeth grinding behind my bandana. “What you want?”

The man made a sound like a rumbling chuckle, and he was gone, and his voice was purring in my ear from behind, his hands landing on my shoulders. “Oh, I was following you of course.” His voice lowered, one of his hands trailing down to my hip. “We could have some fun, Feitan.”

The shock of his daring to touch me so easily and familiarly was a cold wash of outrage followed by a boiling frustration at the knowledge Chrollo had been right, naturally. My _Danchou_ was not one to be wrong.

“Tsk!” I made the angered noise and brushed his hand off my side with a quick whack of skin on skin. “No touch!” the words were a snarl. “No want fun with you! No like!”

“Umm, what I pity,” the man cooed, the hand still on my shoulder tightening its grip slightly. “Because I rather like you, Fei.”

Huffing out a breath and a growl together, I shrugged his hand off and spun away from him. “No use name! You no ‘llowed!”

Humming an amused sound, the clown tilted his head and smirked at me. “Oh, if you insist, Feitan. I won’t call you your adorable pet name. But you realize, just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun together. Sometimes a little hate just makes it that much more interesting.”

My eyes narrowed at the aggravating man, little roils of heat beginning to rise off of me, to shimmer in the air and send tendrils of my heavy, inky hair moving about my face. _I don’t want to have _fun_ with you, you fucking clown bastard_, I said, unable to keep to a language he knew.

It didn’t seem to matter.

He pressed his lips, his face turning thoughtful and a curious sound emanating from him, as he put a finger to his lips and bent to examine me.

“Interesting,” the clown said at last. “You just get more inviting the more pissed off you become. I’ll have to remember that.”

My hands balled to fists at my sides, ready to further hurl insults at the painted magician, but he shrugged indifferently, raising his hands delicately above his shoulders. “But I won’t be catching you tonight. Obviously. So, I’ll bid you goodnight, Feitan.” With that, the intolerable clown turned and sashayed off again, a hand raised in parting.

I watched him go, breath seething through my teeth, curses breathing off my tongue in every language I knew, and several I didn’t. I was not only annoyed beyond all reason the clown _did_ want to fuck me, I was also irritated at his manner and how he so easily crawled under my skin.

Really, I didn’t want my _Danchou_ to lose the Troupe’s wager, but the more time I spent around our new member, the more I realized I would have to try very hard to keep my promise not to kill him. He was disrespectful and untrustworthy. He bared watching for several reasons.

Sputtering out further cuss words, I turned on my heel. I might have been able to escape Chrollo’s room unnoticed, but I had slept in the same bed with him, as well as in the same dirty, disgusting, falling down, rotted out collection of hideouts through the years, to know he would restlessly flail to find me, in time. And I did not want him to reach for me and find my body gone from his side. Franklin gave me a look when I came in smelling of smoke, but he saw my fuming and asked me no questions.

My _Danchou_ had not moved from where he’d been when I left him. For which I was glad. I disrobed, leaving my things as they had been, and crawled back into my friend’s bed. Though my mood did not cool, Chrollo’s turning into me and murmuring nonsensical things in my ear before dissolving back into deep breathing, had me sighing, and, in time, the sounds of his sleep filled respirations lulled me to my own dreams.

Come morning, my _Danchou_ was up before I was. He had already dressed and drunk a cup of tea before I opened my eyes. When I finally did roll and stumble out of the bed, disheveled and squinting, hissing through sleep addled thoughts, he offered me a cup. An offer I refused in favor of hot, spiced wine.

Tea was no comparison to alcohol in the morning.

Still, it was all I could do to pull on my clothes and smooth myself out before Chrollo was placing his hands in his pockets and elegantly striding out the door. The man was slow and methodical, almost plodding, one would say, until his thinking and planning were done. Then he was all grace and quick surety, and nothing could stop him. I was one to know. I’d tried once.

It still seemed a strange thing he’d forgiven me.

Cursing at his long strides and the half-formed memory, I rushed out after my _Danchou_. He was more than halfway down the hall to the hideout’s main room before I caught him, and then I needed to keep up with him the rest of the distance. I was out of breath when we stopped, but the sight of my fellow Spiders was worth it when Chrollo clapped those long, pale hands of his and announced we would have our heist in Swardani City.

The interlude was over and the _Gen’ei Ryodan_ came to life. Bodies came out of their slumps and slouches, they came off couches and chairs, and up from off the floor. In what felt a half a heartbeat, Chrollo stood in the center of a ring of eager thieves.

“What are we going to steal, _Danchou_?” Shalnark questioned, his typical handheld game hanging at the end of his arm, fingers loose around it.

Chrollo closed his eyes and when he opened them again, I had the overwhelming glimpse of them being rain gray, once more. “Something special.”

My _Danchou_ fluttered his hands. “How many of you have heard of the Swardani Opera House?”

A smattering of hands came up. Chrollo nodded, squatting down to trace a long, slim finger over the stone floor. His voice was cultured and even when it came.

“The Swardani Opera House is the most famous in the world for a number of reasons. The least of which is its shear grandeur. No, what really sets the Opera House apart, is the story of its ghost and the diva who sang for it.”

I settled to the floor, arm resting on one knee, the rest of the Spiders dropping to similar poses. When _Danchou_ was in a mood to speak, no one complained. Whether they wanted to listen or not. Chrollo hardly seemed to notice the shift, though. He just went on.

“All famous House’s have their ghosts, or, at least, are said to. And all keep a ghost light burning on the stage at night, to appease and comfort the lonely spirit. This spirit, though, was most comforted by the voice of the Opera House’s diva. She said she cloud see the spirit and would sing her solos for him in every performance. And more than that, she would sit by the ghost light at night, to lull the unhappy spirit to rest with her voice.

“This would have been well and good, but the diva’s male counterpart was greedy and possessive and foolishly jealous of the spirit. From what I can gather, he was also a _Nen_ user.”

That statement caused ripples through the gathered Spiders. A _Nen_ user made this otherwise boring tale interesting.

“When the diva rejected the man’s advances, he determined no one would have he if he couldn’t, and he stole her essence from her body and sealed it in a glass gem he tauntingly called the Ghost Light Globe.

“Following this, the Swardani Opera House became extremely unfortunate, and was continually plagued by costly and deadly accidents. Accidents, which continued to destroy property, and take lives, even after the diva’s _Nen_ using counterpart was found mysteriously dead in his dressing room. Killed, it was said, by the ghost of the Opera House.

“Indeed, the Opera House had no relief, until, on the night that was to be the House’s final performance, the diva’s understudy strung the Ghost Light Globe on a silver chain and wore it around her neck. The understudy then sang the solo of the performance for the spirit, and the legend goes, she sang with the diva’s voice, while the Ghost Light Globe shone white on her chest.

“And the ghost was appeased. The performance was a rousing success and the misfortunes the Opera House had suffered, ceased.

“Since that time, the Ghost Light Globe has become a treasure of the Swardani Opera House, taken from the House’s vaults only once a year, when the old tale of the diva and the spirit is performed, and the current diva wears the gem to sing a solo for the spirit.”

Chrollo stopped and turned thoughtful gray eyes to the ceiling overhead. His finger continued to trace errant, uncharted lines on the floor.

“I’m assuming we’re stealing the Ghost Light Globe then,” Shizuku said, pushing her glasses up her nose. No matter how she tried, the things never stayed up.

“That is correct,” Chrollo confirmed, his attention drawn back from whatever thought his mind had wandered to. “The gem is scheduled to be taken from the vaults next week for the annual performance. We’re going to take the Ghost Light Globe from off the diva’s neck.”

“Not to question you, boss,” Machi put in, shifting, “but wouldn’t it be better to snatch the thing from the vaults?”

“Hum.” Pakunoda had been one of the few to regain an actual seat after Chrollo began speaking. She made the sound and crossed her ankles. “It would seem the more cautious rout. If this performance only happens once a year, it’s certain to be popular; we’ll have to contend with the crowd, as well as security.”

“Yes, all true,” Chrollo said, standing, lazily wiping his finger on his coat. “But it will be better to deal with the Opera House’s security than its vaults. The Swardani Opera House’s vaults are guarded with strong and old _Nen_. Even if we were to get in, we would never get out.”

An amused chuckle came from the clown, but no one else made a sound. If our _Danchou_ didn’t want to risk whatever guarded the vaults, it was bad. Whatever it was.

“Hump. Then how we gonna get the trinket, boss?” Uvogin grunted.

“Easily. Even the best defense will ultimately have a weakness. The Swardani Opera House’s weakness is, though it was built with _Nen_, it has no _Nen_ users to guard it. All we need to do is avoid the _Nen_ restrictions inherent to the building, and stealing the Ghost Light Globe will be as easy as walking in and taking it.”

“You make it sound like we’re just going to go in and talk the thing off the diva’s neck without her protesting, _Danchou_.” Nobunaga looked thoughtful as he said it. The ninja wasn’t one to trust things which seemed too easy.

Chrollo regarded the man, slipping his hands back in the pockets of his leather pants and spreading his coat wide at the hips. “That’s precisely what we are going to do.”

Nobunaga blinked at the words, but he said nothing to them. No more than did the rest of Chrollo’s Spiders. The low, humming, throaty sound I let loose, while I shifted my weight forward, was the only articulated sound in the room. We’d reached the point where our _Danchou_ would tell us our moves, and we all knew it.

Cool, collected, Chrollo’s gray eyes swept the room. Taking in his Troupe.

“We will split into four groups each of which will arrive at the Opera House in a different vehicle, so as not to arouse suspicion. Uvogin, Franklin, Bonolenov, and Kortopi, you will be our drivers and stay with the cars. The four of you are, unfortunately, the most easily noticeable, and we are looking for stealth.”

Uvo grunted, but none of them made a protest. No one argued when _Danchou_ doled out assignments.

“No one will move until the interlude. At that point in the performance, the diva will return to her dressing room, and a team of guards will bring her a case containing the Globe. We will allow the diva to wear the gem and sing her solo.

“It’s after the solo we’ll make our move. The diva will return to her dressing room, yet again, to return the Globe to the case and hand it off to a new set of guards.

“Nobunaga, Shalnark, and Phinks will intercept the guards. Our Shalnark will use his _Hatsu_ to convince them they’ve visited the diva and retrieved the gem. They will even give the guards a case containing a fake Globe to be returned to the vaults.”

Chrollo’s eyes touched on each of the three in turn, and they nodded.

“In the meantime, Pakunoda and Shizuku will impersonate the guards, enter the diva’s dressing room, and fetch us the real Ghost Light Globe. As every set of guards is different, no one will suspect. Not even the diva.”

Our _Danchou_ paused. “This is the center of our plan. However, it’s the fine details which will ensure its success. Though the guards Nobunaga, Shalnark, and Phinks waylay will have the keys to the diva’s private room, we will not be able to use them. There are _Nen_ restrictions on the keys and locks, ensuring no one but the real guards can utilize them.”

There was a stir in the gathered Spiders. Several of them exchanged glances. But it was Pakunoda who voiced the question they all wanted to speak. Paku who I remembered as a scrawny, dirt caked urchin with lank, smelly hair and a cold gleam in her eyes when she cut someone with her little knife. Paku who had grown to a fine and refined woman with an ample bosom she liked to teasingly display with her suit coats unbuttoned and dipping low. Paku who made it no secret she wanted Chrollo, but who had settled for me one night, instead. A reasonable replacement, given my relationship with our _Danchou_.

“If Shizuku and I can’t use the keys, how will we get into the dressing room,_ Danchou_?”

Chrollo closed his eyes and opened them again. “Easily. As I said, even the best defense will have its weakness. Though the keys and lock are protected with _Nen_, the latch is not.” My _Danchou’s_ dark head tilted to the side, as he rotated to view the clown. “And this is where our new member will demonstrate his usefulness.”

Hisoka purred an internal laugh, his lips coiling in a grin. “It will be my pleasure, of course.”

A nod, acknowledging the words. “You and Feitan will infiltrate the backstage area, during the diva’s solo. Without arousing suspicion, you will locate her dressing room and use your Bungee Gum on the latch, so when the diva returns, though it will appear her door is shut behind her, the latch will not have engaged. Once you’ve done this, the two of you will return to your box, report to me, and remain on standby, should anything go awry.”

The moment my _Danchou_ had spoken my name a bucket of cold water had washed down my spine, bringing me out of my languid, half lidded-eyed reverie. By the time Chrollo had finished his dialogue, I was shaking.

Spitting a curse, I jumped to my feet, my words harsh behind my bandana. “Why I need work with him! No like! No want to work with clown!”

I was panting and pointing at the bastard, my finger trembling. My breath hissing. And the whole of the Troupe looking at me as though I’d gone mad. Phinks’ face was white, and his jaw hung open stupidly.

My teeth ground together. I despised myself and cursed my actions, but the words were out and there was no taking them back.

“Please, _Danchou_, no do! Let Phinks work with clown. I go with Shalnark, or drive car.”

“Why me?!” Phinks yelped. “I don’t want to work with Hisoka!”

“Enough.” Chrollo’s face was a study in calm, but his gray eyes were beginning to cloud. “I need you with Hisoka, Fei. I trust you. If anything goes wrong, I know you will handle it.”

“Trust Phinks too!” I growled. Why, _Danchou_?!”

That was the thing I could not understand. Why after telling me he had wagered I would fuck the clown first, why after saying the magician was interested in me would my _Danchou_ thrust me into this situation with the man?

“Why are you choosing to question me on this, Feitan?” Chrollo’s voice was pitched low, but there was a hard note in it I didn’t like. There were reasons the man was the head of the Spider. Reasons no one argued when he spoke.

Yet, I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t hold back. If Chrollo was going to be angry with me, then I would take it and be damned. I felt myself tense, felt the words tremble behind my lips, waiting to come out, only to be stopped by the soft rumble of the clown’s laugh.

“Come now, let’s not fight,” he cooed, his gold eyes dancing with merriment I did not like in the least. “I should hate for the two of you to break your own rules over me.”

“Doubt that, clown,” I hissed, but his lips only curled in a deeper smile. Oh, so insulting.

His large, but oddly graceful, hand drew something glinting out of a pocket, a thing which he tossed up and caught again. All the while those glinting, gold eyes not leaving Chrollo and me.

“Oh, but it’s true, Feitan. I don’t want you two to fight any more than I mind working with you. I have no issues with Chrollo’s choice of pairing you with me, which is why I propose we settle this according to the rules.” His eyes cut fully to me, and he tossed up the thing he’d taken from his pocket again. “With a coin flip.”

Chrollo was quiet a moment. Pondering the clown and the coin he held between his fingers. “What would be the terms of the coin toss?”

“Oh, simple.” Hisoka shrugged. “The coin comes up heads, and Feitan and I will proceed with the plan as you laid it out. The coin comes up tails, and you let Feitan work a different part of the heist, and I’ll settle for Phinks.”

The large blond yelped again, face blanching. “Why does everyone keep picking me?!” His voice was loud and wavery, but no one paid him any mind.

My _Danchou_ only shut his eyes and dropped his head a moment. “I agree to the terms.”

I hissed, eyes scuttling between the slender man with the dark hair and rain gray gaze, and the large, lean bastard with the gelled hair and glossed lips. Trapped. Locked between the two with no way out, and my fate resting on a coin.

“Fei,” my _Danchou_ prompted. “Do you agree?”

I spat curses, unable to contain myself. But, at the end, I hauled out, “Fine! ‘Gree!” my fists clenched at my sides.

An evil grin split the clown’s lips and those molten gold eyes of his narrowed in some secret glee. His fingers did something quick and unseen, and the coin flipped up into the air, spinning end over end.

Every eye followed its arch, traced its path to bare meters from the floor, where the clown’s hand snatched it away, only to revel it laying on his palm. Laying heads up.

Phinks sucked in a breath, out of relief or fear of what I’d do, I wasn’t sure which. Chrollo just stood still, his hands in his pockets and his gray eyes soft. I should have been hissing, should have been boiling anger in rippling waves that lifted my hair and sent the rest of the Troupe stumbling back in fear. Should have been but wasn’t.

“Tsk!” The low sound was loud in the breathless room. “I work with clown.” Miming my _Danchou_, I tucked my hands in my pockets and turned to wander to an unoccupied patch of floor, where I could sit alone and listen to the rest of the plans.

I was watched, I could feel the eyes on my back, but I paid them no mind. My half-covered face and brooding gaze were enough to rebuff all but the clown’s lecorous scrutiny. One wrist resting on an up-turned knee, his head was tilted back, and he ran his tongue over his lower lip. But, as Chrollo paced back and forth, reviewing details and advising his Troupe on other _Nen_ restrictions the Swardani Opera House boasted, I sat quiet and calm, looking back at the man.

Some of my fellow Spiders may have thought my mood odd, but there were likely a few who understood it. Pakunoda, Nobunaga, Franklin, a few others. If they could see the memory playing behind my hooded gaze, they, wouldn’t question my mood switch, or how I returned Hisoka’s study without a hint of rage.

The half-formed memory I’d railed against following my _Danchou_ down the hall into the main room was playing in a loop through my mind. Louder and more visual than Chrollo’s words.

_A younger, smaller version of myself was laying sprawled on the ground somewhere that smelled of trash. My head hurt, my body ached, and my mouth tasted of dust and blood. Raising myself on shaking arms, I spat the viscous stuff out with a wheeze. One of my eyes was sealed shut and several things were broken._

_Chrollo squatted next to me. Young. Far too thin. Eyes anything but gentle. His forehead was puffy and red, and some of my blood was still caked under his nails, alongside the dirt and filth typical there._

_“Are you going to question me again, Fei?” he asked._

_I shook my head, dirty hair hanging in my face. “No…”_

_“No?” Chrollo cocked his head to the side. “No what, Fei?”_

_“No. No… _Danchou_.”_

“Tsk!”

I let my eyes settle on my _Danchou’s _still thin form. Our one and only fight had left a lasting impression on us both. The shock of being paired with the clown had made me forget myself, but the flashing coin and the adherence to the rule Troupe members were not allowed to fight had brought me back. I determined, returning the clown’s stare, I would not forget again.

Chrollo’s eyes flicked to me when he finished speaking. I returned his glance then turned mine on Machi. The pink-haired woman waved a hand and said, “It all sounds great, boss, but you haven’t mentioned where I’ll be.”

“That’s because you will be in a box with me. We’ll be on hand, in the event something should go wrong and we are needed, but I simply intend to enjoy the final performance the Swardani Opera House will ever offer featuring the Ghost Light Globe.”

“We steal its luck, _Danchou_,” I said.

My friend turned to me with an expression laced with so much quiet sorrow I felt it as a physical throb in my chest. “No, Fei,” he returned, “we’re going to steal its heart.”

The look and the words left me unsettled and uncertain in the days following. While the rest of the Troupe broke into raucous excitement and debated how they would spend their share of the take at every turn of our trek to Swardani, I remained silent and unreachable. Phinks, in his awkward, shuffling way, noted it and attempted to console me. But I was in on temper to be comforted, and the big blond ended clapping me on the shoulder, clearing his throat, and wandering away before I decided to be angry. Though I was not inclined to be so, I did not tell him.

I was settling myself to work with the clown and rebuff him because I had no doubt he would try for me. His molten gold eyes had told me _that_ was certain, as he watched me after the coin flip. Maybe he would have fucked Phinks if things had gone against him, but Hisoka was undeniably pleased to find things had gone his way.

The magician’s swaggering attitude through the trip proved that. At every turn I found his gaze on me and an infuriating grin on his lips. As well as a conspicuous bulge in his pants he made no attempt to hide.

_Irritating clown bastard._ The words hissed past my lips often, but low, and always in my own tongue. Doubtless Chrollo knew what they meant, but my _Danchou_ seemed to know I was making attempt to be compliant and civil and did not reprimand me.

It was just as well. My weariness and displeasure at Chrollo’s asseveration we steal the Opera House’s heart did not diminish. The leader of the Phantom Troupe was seldom fanciful, and the anticipation of loss on his face disturbed me. There was something I felt had been left unspoken and it rankled, rubbing at my mind, until it was raw.

By the time we reached Swardani and took up residence in the hotel penthouse Chrollo had rented out, I was watching my _Danchou_ with thunderhead shaded eyes. Looking for a sign I didn’t find. Prying for an understanding, which wouldn’t be revealed to me.

Not until after the heist, and the heist did not wait.

We spent one night in the hotel and one day casing Swardani and its Opera House. The second night was the performance.

I grunted at my refection in my bedroom mirror. I’d traded my long, black coat for a tailored, black suit, accented with white and silver, and my bandana for a soft, satin scarf wound snug around my face and over my chest in place of a tie. High boots completed the unusual attire. I knew I made it look good, but I wasn’t fond of it.

Turning away, I trudged out to where the other Spiders were gathering. Chrollo wore a suit, much like my own, and Machi was at his side in a powder-pink gown matching her hair. The two of them splendid images in finery. Uvogin, Bonolenov, Kortopi, and Franklin reclined on chairs in simpler suits, chauffeurs’ uniforms, while Shalnark, Phinks, and Nobunaga were dressed as Swardani Opera House attendants, and Pakunoda and Shizuku as guards.

We all had changed our skins in a way, but it was the clown my eyes were drown to. He came swaggering with abnormal grace, his lean form hugged by a white suit set off with a red tie, like a slick of blood over his broad chest. His hair was slicked down, instead of gelled up, for once, and his lips were glossed to a liquid sheen. The man was wearing more clothes than I had ever seen him in, but he made them seem superfluous with the way his body moved in them. Every sensuous glide stretching the fabric over taunt muscle.

I stopped mid-step and blinked at him. He was one good-looking, seductive bastard, and the look in his gold eyes, gold like the gloss on his lips, said he was playing it up.

“Like what you see, Feitan?” he queried, voice all purr and danger.

“Not look at you,” I stated, voice droll, lie poor. “_Danchou_ look good.” Which was no lie. Chrollo looked like something to be unwrapped slowly.

The clown looked like something that would unwrap you if you weren’t careful.

My logical mind told me there was no way to _be_ careful enough. No good thing could come of fucking with the clown in any sense of the word.

As if to affirm the notion, the man made an amused sound, part chuckle, part low hum. “Of course, Feitan. Whatever you say.”

The magician prowled away and there was no more time to think. Chrollo divided us into our teams and the Spiders advanced on Swardani Opera House.

Kortopi drove the car the clown and I shared, and he was mercifully silent. As was Hisoka, who merely amused himself producing sharpened playing cards from nowhere and making them disappear again. I did my best to pretend the man was not there, but his presence, and oddly sweet scent, were hard to ignore in the confined space.

The clown smelled like a candy shop. There was no other way to describe it. Every whiff of him drifting to me across the seat was like spun sugar with a deeper, huskier underlay. A thing akin to the taste of black licorice; sweet and disturbing.

Despite myself, I found I was hissing out small sounds and casting the magician appraising glances. Much to his apparent amusement.

“Keep this up, and I might be tempted to think you really do like what you see, Feitan,” he murmured. Irking me.

But then the car was stopping, and we were stepping out and there was no time for a retort, even if the sight of the Swardani Opera House hadn’t wiped all thought of one clear out of my mind.

I’d done and seen many things since my _Danchou_ had marked himself and the Spider had been born in a shoddy little wreck of a falling down building, but there was a part of me which was still the scrawny, feral Chrollo had pulled, biting and cursing, out of a pile of trash in Meteor City. I loved pretty things. Things that shown. Loved them for their own sake and not for how much Jenny they could provide me. And the Swardani Opera House was pretty. More than pretty.

I stood blinking, and struck stupidly dumb, at the base of a set of terraced marble steps. Three separate levels, like wide, white and gray pools, leading up to the House itself. The size of it staggered me. Leaving me to crane my neck back and take the whole in in fragmented pieces.

A gold dome, rising above all, burnished and glowing in the evening, and flanked by spires and statues and intricate alcoves and constructions I couldn’t name. To either side, high, square, decorated secondary buildings curled away in a symmetric sprawl. Avenues lined by greenery bordered the entirety of the place and low, bunched beds of flowers grew in cunningly select beds.

Standing there, mind blank and body limp and still, one impression grew in a wordless kind of awe, devoid of language.

_Palace._

The Swardani Opera House looked like a palace and no theater I’d ever seen.

“Magnificent,” the clown’s voice purred in my ear, but I didn’t care. His hands were on my shoulders and his coy grin millimeters from my cheek, and I didn’t think he meant the Opera House when he said that single word, but I made no move to shrug him off. Made no move at all, until the clown chuckled and moved a hand to my back to guide me forward. “Come along, Feitan.”

With the size of the House, we saw none of the other Spiders, but my mind told me this was well. When I was capable of thought again. Amid all those who had come to see the performance, we were nothing more than anonymous. My only worry was finding the way to the dressing rooms, but Hisoka solved that with a simple point of an elegant finger at a side door leading back into the private areas of the House.

Then we had claimed our box and settled on black velvet padded chairs. The clown sat uncomfortably close to me despite the fact we had the entire box to ourselves. Still, I kept my resolve not to fight and the opera enacted on the stage was absorbing. I seldom had opportunity to do simple things, such as attend an opera, and it was almost enough to make me forget we were on a job.

Almost. But there was a sharp, searing hot part of me which never forgot. My _Nen_ was burning under the skin of my fingers, making me flex them thoughtfully, wishing I had more to do than accompany Hisoka and make sure the capricious man made good on his end of the heist plan, long before the diva stepped out on stage with the Ghost Light Globe hanging around her neck.

The gem was much smaller than I’d imagined it would be. Hardly more than a robin’s egg, but it was bright. The light coming from it was enough to brighten the stage without the aid of any other illumination.

Neither Hisoka nor I took the time to ponder it or how the diva’s voice had changed, however. On the way to Swardani, Chrollo had made one thing clear: the diva’s solo would take no more than five minutes. We would have no more than that space of time to locate the dressing room and slide some of the clown’s Bungee Gum around the latch without being noticed.

We stood and we moved out of our box and, for once, I didn’t care who I was with. We were two predators gliding gracefully toward our prey. The magician’s eyes were narrowed and focused and I flexed my fingers, holding back the heat there.

All was well in the public part of the House. There were many guests moving about and we were paid no attention to. The trouble began when we strolled through the door Hisoka had pointed out to me, and we walked into the private portion of the Swardani Opera House.

We walked slow and unhurried, our attitudes disinterested. As though we belonged there and knew where we were going. Yet, as we scanned for the dressing room, we garnered curious looks and suspicious stares.

“I do believe we’re noticed, Feitan,” the clown murmured in a light rumble, indicating a frowning youth who had turned to follow us.

I hissed, mind running through the best way of disposing of the nosy kid before he confronted us. Unfortunately, most of my internal thoughts tended toward the knives I had hidden on my person and copious amounts of bloodletting sure to draw attention.

Hisoka’s mind worked differently and decided on a course of action _I_ never would have considered. “This way,” he cooed, taking my wrist, and pulling me aside to a dimmed hollow behind a large, painted set piece and beside a nondescript dressing room door. In a wink, I had my back pushed up against the wall, and the clown was leaning over me, his body much too near, his hands gripping my face, his thumbs pushing down my scarf, and his words brushing my lips.

“Now don’t make a fuss, Fei; we need a distraction.”

And, the infuriating bastard’s lips closed over mine, his hands sliding back to tangle in the black slick of my over-long hair. I jerked, back arching at the unexpected brashness of the man.

Then, at the insistent way his lips moved on mine. They were soft and warm and wet with the gloss he had covered them in. As though they’d done it for years, those lips molded with mine, embraced them, parted them, so Hisoka’s tongue could find its way into my mouth.

From outrage at the magician’s presumption in touching me, I moved to boneless shock at how good he was in the art of kissing. Swaying, my eyes dropped closed and I did everything I could to press upward, anxious the kiss should go on. The whole of the thing was both unhurried and needy, yet, driving and demanding. Hisoka’s lips moved from heady, teasing brushes, held together by our panting breathes, to tongue tangling deepness, made unbreakable by the steady pull of his hands in my hair.

I was annoyed when he broke away, and further annoyed by his words. “Well, that worked nicely, didn’t it, Fei? It seems our young follower had no interest in disturbing a couple of guests looking for a quiet place to exchange saliva.”

Irked by the crudeness of his words, and suddenly frustrated at the realization of how fast he’d managed to distract _me_ when _I_ was supposed to be watching the bastard for Chrollo, I opened my mouth to hurl a retort at him. Only to have him claim it in another kiss, leaving me equally dazed and numb.

Hisoka ended by licking into my mouth and nipping at my lower lip in a slight jolt of delighted pain. “Still,” he purred, “it’s probably best to continue with the rouse, considering we don’t want to be disturbed, and we seem to have found our dressing room.”

I twisted my head around to see what he was talking about, and to get my mouth out of his range. The dressing room beside us was like any other, except for a plain plaque set on its door with the inscription _Our Lady of Songs_ etched on it. The title Chrollo had told us, on the way to Swardani, the Opera House gave to its diva.

“Do job, stupid clown!” I hissed low, swinging back around to face the man.

“But of course, Fei. With pleasure,” he returned. Offering me an evil smirk, the magician pressed his lips back over mine, controlling my head with one hand, so I couldn’t get away even if the juxtaposition of thrill and rapidly growing rage hadn’t held me in place, and snaking out the other hand to the dressing room door, so it only would appear he was bracing himself on the wall, while kissing his shorter companion, if anyone saw us.

Finishing with a swipe of his tongue over mine, the clown pulled back. He passed his fingers over his lips and eyed me with a cocky grin. “Well, that was a pleasant distraction, wouldn’t you agree, Fei? Though, it seems we’re out of time. Shall we go back to our box and tell Chrollo we’ve completed our little part in this venture?”

“Tsk!” I made the angry little sound, yanking my scarf back up over my mouth. “Job done; we go!” Stalking around the aggravating bastard, I tossed my stormy gaze up at him. “You no so great. Taste like stupid candy and lip gloss!”

Hisoka chuckled at my insult and trailed after me. His nearness was a constant chafe on my already blazing temper, but at least the clown was blessedly silent on the way back to our box. I wouldn’t have been able to contain myself if he’d spoken because what I’d said was true. If the man smelled of a candy shop, he tasted of bubble gum and sugar candy. Which was absurd, as I’d never seen him eat anything of the kind. Yet, the absurdity lingered in my mind, along with the way I’d eagerly pressed into his kiss, wanting more.

I ground my teeth behind my scarf, as we entered the box and I slid into my seat. Hisoka paid my fuming no mind. He pulled a cell phone from an inner pocket and used it to call Chrollo. The conversation was low and rumbling, almost the thrum of a great cat, which has had its way, claimed its prize, and is content. The sly smile and narrow-eyed look he held me in all the while he informed Chrollo of our success said it all.

Frustrated with the whole of it, and myself most of all, I stupidly tried to ignore my companion. Supporting my chin on my hand and focusing in on the stage below. This tactic lasted only until the magician disconnected his call and pocketed the phone. Then it was all for naught.

“Humhum.” The clown laughed low in his throat, his lips pulling back from his teeth, as he leaned toward me. “I think you enjoyed our little distraction earlier, Fei.”

“No use name,” I snarled, aiming stormy eyes at him. _Fucking bastard_, I added, slipping into my own language.

The loss of control on my part only made the intolerable smile wider. “I’m sure whatever you said is most correct, Feitan.” He shrugged, standing up and sauntering over to me. “But it doesn’t change the fact.” He leaned over me, invading my space, hands locked on the arms of my chair, so I couldn’t rise. “You _did_ enjoy it.”

I hissed and the clown chuckled.

“The best thing about this is, you can’t use your _Nen_ here. Unless, you want to wreck Chrollo’s plans.” So saying, the clown raised one hand to push down my scarf again. I glowered at him, disgusted and rather horrified at the fact, even if he hadn’t been right about my sizzling him ruining the heist, I wouldn’t have done it. “Magnificent,” the clown purred, laying the hand he’d raised on my jaw and using it to draw my face to his.

The kiss was light. A press of lips, soft and seeking. Against my own will, I felt myself respond to it, tilting my head up. Hisoka rumbled happiness at it, and deepened the kiss, letting his lips part mine.

When he pulled back, my eyes were half-lidded, and I was limp in my chair. “Oh, yes,” Hisoka cooed. “You did enjoy it.” A near whisper came next. “Let’s have some fun, Feitan.”

What happened following was quick. I went from sitting in my seat to sitting on the clown’s lap on the plush carpet. He was hard against me and tilting my head back with a hand in my hair. Kisses peppered my neck and collar bones, and I was gripping his shoulders with my small hands. Wrinkling the fabric of his perfect, white suit.

I wasn’t thinking. The music was rising to a crescendo down below us and I was distracted with a heat all through me that had nothing to do with my _Nen_. A sensation, which, in fact, had everything to do with too much pent aggression and doubt and worry and intriguing, over-pleasant kisses leading to a raging wash of uncaring, animalistic lust.

An angry, terrified part of me wanted to fuck the clown’s brains out or kill him. As I’d promised _not_ to kill him, things turned to the former.

Far swifter than should have been possible, both of our pants were open and pushed out of the way, just enough to facilitate a hurried dalliance. I found myself blinking up at gold eyes and flashing red hair, neatly slicked down for once, with Hisoka’s fingers up my ass and his cock rubbing mine.

It was a startling thing to realize the man had gone quite serious. No playful grins, no cheeky smiles. Just intent concentration and a hard crush of his mouth on mine. Somewhere in the kiss _something_ else replaced his fingers in me, but I hardly gave that a thought.

The music crashed through its final and the clown’s elegant body pushed me past mine. My forehead was leaning on his chest and I was muttering broken, senseless sentences there in my mother tongue, when the House went silent. Silent apart from the magician’s pleased chuckle.

It only took me half a moment to realize what I’d just done. I’d lost the damn fucking wager.

Leaving Swardani with the Ghost Light Globe in our possession, it was some consolation at least my _Danchou_ had won the Troupe’s costmary wager. Some but not nearly enough because I had to _tell_ Chrollo he’d won and then everyone had to pay up what they owed. Which led to all of the Spiders discovering who Chrollo had wagered on.

Only the clown was amused by the fact.

The rest stayed away from me and my nasty mood. Even Phinks. My typical, teasing companion only looked at me with wide eyes and avoided me. As if afraid I’d kill him for invading my space.

Perhaps I would have. I certainly wanted to kill _something_. Maybe the clown. I couldn’t get _him_ out of my mind. Or the smell of him off my skin or the taste of him out of my mouth. He was a bastard. A fucking irritating, gloating bastard, and it was a sin for a man like that to be able to kiss the way he did.

The sex had been fine, but it was the kisses which lingered. I would lay awake, looking up at the ceiling of whatever place we were hold up for the night, or the stars, depending on the way things went, lost in tangled memories of the kisses. Frowning, my fingers would find their way to my lips, and my mind would wander.

Sugar candy and bubble gum…

With those lingering memories came a heaviness. I knew long before we reached the hideout, once more, Chrollo was not angry with me. My _Danchou_ never cared for such things, and his manner was easy with me. But… I was not at ease.

Instead of anticipating the next time my friend would stand in the door of the main room and lightly say my name, I dreaded it. Heavy and unsettled at this, I took to wandering the hideout aimlessly, staring dull eyed at things.

Yet, when my _Danchou_ did call my name, I went with him without protest. He said nothing when we reached his room and, lacking any cue to how he wished to proceed, I began removing my clothes. Motions mechanical, eyes distant. For the first time, not wanting to have my _Danchou_ on the bed under me.

“I didn’t call you here for that, Fei.”

The words stopped me. I blinked and looked up. Chrollo was some ways away, sitting slumped in the chair by his table.

“Not do?” I asked, voice low, somewhat pleading. Though I didn’t know why.

“Not anymore, Fei.” This was spoken soft and sent a bolt of terror through my veins. There was so much hurt in Chrollo’s face I thought I would break.

“Why?!” Heart throbbing, I shook my head like a dog with a tick in its ear. “No understand!”

Chrollo glanced at the long fingers resting in his lap, then back up to me with eyes like rain clouds. “Because I know you too well, Fei. You have someone else on your mind.”

“He trash!” I snapped. “You my _Danchou_!”

A nod. “Yes, Fei. And I always will be.” His next words were no longer sad. They were flint, and not to be questioned. “And you are one of my Spiders.”

And he would never have it said he took advantage of one of his Spiders. If I was torn, he wouldn’t have me.

I pressed my hands over my eyes. I wasn’t even aware I was holding back tears until Chrollo said my name and pulled me into his arms.

“Oh, Fei.” He stroked me, and I clung to him. Everything spun. My world tilted and kilted off center.

“No like!” I declared, almost whimpering. Dizzy.

“I know,” Chrollo said, hand moving down my spine, over and over again. “We don’t always choose the ones we care for, Feitan. He won’t make you happy. A man like that is heavy to carry. But you’ll be even more unhappy without him.”

My hands were knotted in his long, black coat. Halfway through his exposition, I’d gone stiff. Care? My _Danchou_ thought I cared for the clown.

I opened my mouth to protest and closed it again. One occurrence of fucking an attractive bastard wasn’t _caring_, but… but the seductive man was on my mind and it wasn’t just the fact I liked how he kissed or had enjoyed his attentions. I simply wasn’t that kind. I could let go of lust.

“Is not fair,” I said, the protest confused and mumbled.

“When has anything in our lives ever been fair, Fei?”

Pushing out of his arms, I cast my _Danchou_ an annoyed frown. “Tsk! Knew!”

“Yes, I knew,” Chrollo admitted. “You hated him, and he was intrigued by you. Whatever else he may be, Hisoka Morou is a magnetic man. I had to give you an opportunity and let… the two of you decide for yourselves.”

“Still no trust,” I spat. “He pig! No change.”

Chrollo considered and made an agreeing motion of his head. “Not thrusting him is probably wise, Fei. Be careful of him.”

I gave a curt nod of agreement of my own, then began shuffling from foot to foot. Unsure what to do with myself if I wasn’t expected to fuck my _Danchou_.

“Go on, Feitan,” Chrollo said. “There are things you want to do.”

I moved to go, uncertain what _things_ my friend meant, then spun back, eyes narrowing at him. “You need!” I spat. “I here!”

My _Danchou’s_ hands hung between his thighs, but a thin smile pulled at his pale lips. “Yes, dear Fei.”

Once out Chrollo’s door, I paced slow down the hall back to the main room, my hands tucked in my pockets, my head down in thought. What _things_ did I want to _do_? Only one notion came to mind, if I’d been exiled form my _Danchou’s_ bed for him.

Scowling, jaw clenched, I paused in the doorway, storm-gray eyes locking on the bastard in question where he lazed laying on his back on the floor. His large frame was stretched out languid and content. One leg bent at the knee, one arm folded under his head, and a hand resting on his chest. The white suit was gone, and his hair was spiked up again, but he was no less attractive.

Huffing, I decided one problem with the man was he was seductive, and he knew it. Another problem was he seemed not in the least to have _me_ on his mind.

Stepping forward, I ignored the few other Spiders lingering in the room and called out, “Hey, stupid clown!”

A slow grin spread over the face. Playful. Aggravating. Arching his back, the man tilted his head, to view me upside down. “And what can I do for you, Fei?” he crooned.

I stopped above him. Glowered down at him. “Want have some fun,” I snapped.

The grin turned evil and the gold eyes glowed. “But of course, Fei.”

A few hours with the clown were enough to convince me he had many different ideas of _fun_. Sitting on the edge of his bed, I found myself nursing more bruises than I’d had after my last real fight. I wished I could be angry about that but found myself only mildly harassed by it instead. The way the magician’s fingers played down my belly from behind distracted my rage.

Hissing, I swatted at the hand with little force. _Fucking bastard_, I hissed.

A chuckle from behind. “Probably, Fei. Though, whatever you’re saying, I’m rather pleased I arranged to work with you during the heist. I thought Chrollo was going to let you trade with Phinks, until I fixed it.”

“Fix?!” I twisted to face him; voice gone to snarl. “We flip coin!”

“Naturally,” the man said carelessly. “But I never leave anything to chance.”

He reached down off the bed, to take something out of the pile of clothes he’d dropped and tossed it to me.

The coin was heavy in my hand. Heads up. I turned it and it remained heads up. A double-sided coin. “Clown bastard!” I hauled out. “You cheat! I kill for this!”

Hisoka’s laughter rippled over me, golden like his eyes. He took my chin in his fingers and met my storming gaze. “Oh, Feitan. I really do have to remember this. You’re perfectly adorable when you’re murderous.” Then his lips were crushed over mine, and I had to admit, as bitterly pissed off as I was, there was something sweet about kissing the clown. Something heady and sharp as his smell, all anise and black licorice.

**Author's Note:**

> Totsuzen no deai e no kokoro kara no yorokobi to  
"itsushika owaru kamoshirenai..." sonna kankaku ni obiete  
Sosh*te hitomi o mitsumeteta  
Nanimo wakarazu ni  
Dore dake no omoide mo yume no you na maboroshi de  
Itsumademo kawaru koto no nai tojikomerareta kimi ga iru  
Ima mo hitomi o mitsumeteta  
Nanimo kawarazu ni  
Te o nobaseba todoiteta hohoemi wa hakanakute  
Me o tojireba ude no naka de kieteiku kimi o  
Mou ichido dakitakute  
Ano toki, ano basho de deatta koto o wasurenai kara...  
Kaze no naka de odoru kimi no sugata wa  
Hikari ni tsutsumareteita  
Kimi dake o mitsumeteta  
Boku wa itsumademo mitsumeteta  
Ima mo kimi dake o mitsumeteru  
Nanimo kawarazu ni  
Te o nobaseba todoiteta hohoemi wa setsunakute  
Me o tojireba yume no naka e kieteiku kimi o  
Mou ichido dakitakute  
Ano toki, ano basho de deatta koto o wasurenai kara...  
Wasurenai kara...
> 
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> 
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